Water Tower and Families pt. 3

Coordinating food turned out to be one of the more challenging parts of the shelter. Vince had left to work at a different location, leaving Tom and me. Luckily, my role was overseeing the sleeping area along with the mobile showers. With that said, how could I even describe the food coordination?

Well, first, we must define what 'hangry' is. Then we must describe its use in the English narrative. Google defines it as the grumpy, irritable feeling you get when your stomach is rumbling and your patience is dwindling. The following are a continuation of the artful expressions for vividly describing this common yet innately animalistic tendency: a temporary personality disorder triggered by a sudden and severe lack of snacks. The feeling you get when you realize that your significant other ate the last slice of pizza without asking. When your stomach growls so loud, it triggers a primal urge to argue with someone. The emotional state of being where a sandwich becomes more important than world peace. When your stomach growls louder than your common sense. A dietary-induced mood swing: where 'feed me' quickly turns into 'do not talk to me'. When your stomach is empty, but your temper is full: a classic case of biological impatience. When your stomach is rumbling a symphony of complaints, and your patience has packed its bags. When your blood sugar has dropped to an all-time low, your vision has turned red, and the thought of committing complete annihilation crosses your mind because someone has told you off. Still, in all reality, the accurate translation is that they have just mentioned that you forgot your phone on the table.

Now, with a more thorough understanding of this regression in the human spirit, imagine a building full of stressed-out, traumatized, and yes, hangry people.

It became very apparent that dinner was not going to be sent the first night. Tom decided that Subway would be dinner that night. After making the decision, he had everyone write down what they wanted from the restaurant. During this time, he asked me to find a local Subway shop where we could pick up our order. After looking at the map on my phone, I picked out a place that was a mile and a half away. I hoped that we would be able to see some of where the tornado had gone through.

Tom and I jumped into one of the Red Cross vehicles and headed to the Subway. As he drove, I gave directions for the route we were taking. I directed him to drive through a park called Fairground Park. Driving through, we could see huge cottonwood trees that had been blown over. Leaves and branches were scattered about as one would see after a heavy storm. We then turned right onto Natural Bridge Ave and began driving northwest. You could tell, looking at the buildings and homes, that we were starting to see the edge of the tornado's path. Aside from the trees that are most often the collateral damage, I began to see homes that had been affected by the power of the wind. Where roofs had been, giant tarps were placed, attempting to keep out rain and other things.

We pulled up to the intersection of Clarence Ave and Natural Bridge Ave. A large gas station sat to the right of us. It took a minute to register with what I was seeing. Not only was the gas station destroyed, but there was a semi-trailer lying on its side.

What struck me in the moment was that even after two weeks, it was still as if the tornado had gone through a day or two before.

We pulled into Subway and parked. Unbeknownst to us, it was a popular place, with a line of cars going around the parking lot. We both got out and headed into the establishment. After walking up to the counter, Tom explained that he needed an order for twenty people. The lady's eyes behind the counter grew to the size of half dollars. 'Hold on a second, I need to let my manager know,' she replied. She turned and walked to a lady who was short, with white hair. She then explained what we needed. With the determination of a general, she told all the workers that our order was the focus. 'We got a long line outside,' one of the workers said. 'Well, you better tell them that they're gonna be sit'n out there for an hour because we have an order in here,' was the reply. After everyone was ready, the order began. It was not long after they had started that people began to trickle inside. I am not sure if it was because they had the same idea as us or if they were looking to see who was holding up the line.

As the line inside grew behind us, both Tom and I started to feel a bit nervous. Unknown to me, Tom's nervousness was not because we were holding up the line, per se. About halfway through, I checked on him, and that is when he told me he had forgotten the credit card that we were supposed to use to pay for the order. 'I may need you to drive back and get the card,' he said to me. 'Do you want me to head out now?' I asked. 'No, let's wait until they are finished.' I turned and sat down, attempting not to noticeably shake my head. The things I get myself into, I thought to myself. After another twenty minutes of preparation, the order was finally finished. Tom approached the register and then explained that he had forgotten the credit card. It was then that he turned and had me approach. 'If you think it is ok, can I leave and get the credit card? I will leave my coworker here as collateral or ransom.' My head jerked, and I stared at him, attempting to process the fact that somehow, now I was collateral. The people behind him also began to give him looks. After a few minutes of pause, the manager agreed that I could stay at the restaurant while he went and got the credit card....